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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25073995">A Starved Maelstorm</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bauliya/pseuds/Bauliya'>Bauliya</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime), 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Characters Are Pro Heroes (My Hero Academia), Eldritch horror (slight), Eldritch quirk, Light Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, he comes back to life. there's a happy ending., shouto's barely there but he's a sassy bitch and i l o v e him, yuuri dies but</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 03:07:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,294</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25073995</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bauliya/pseuds/Bauliya</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>For many years, Yuuri Katsuki thought he was quirkless, and for the rest of them, he wished he were.</p>
<p>Yuuri has an exceedingly powerful quirk he cannot control. Victor is in love. Izuku Midoriya, as usual, saves the day.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>107</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Starved Maelstorm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>For many years, Yuuri Katsuki thought he was quirkless, and for the rest of them, he wished he were. Like all children, he’d wanted to be a hero. It was impossible to desire anything else when you watched the video of Deku raising his bloody fist after beating Shigaraki, smile beatific, when you grew up on stories of All Might, when you watched compilations upon compilations of Ground Zero jettisoning through the air, of Entropy swerving between buildings, of Dark Shadow entrapping six villains in a blink while Jet Black leaned stylishly against a building, his dark coat flapping like bat wings.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then he turned four, and his quirk didn’t manifest, and he cried and cried until he discovered Minako and her ballet studio, and then he turned five and discovered Yuuko and the ice, and slowly heroics faded from his mind, eventually becoming just a wistful glance at a UA application towards the end of junior high, just before he rushed off to practice and closed the site, the information fields unfilled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then he turned sixteen and died. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a truck, of all things. A truck and a dark night and a poodle that ran in front of it while he was distracted by horrifying paparazzi pictures of Victor Nikiforov with</span>
  <em>
    <span> short hair. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His legs moved without any consultation from his mind and moments later, he was frozen in front of blaring horns and blinding headlights, clutching Vicchan to his chest, and his last coherent move was to toss the dog towards the footpath. He watched Vicchan land with a thump, shake his head, and yip repeatedly before an eighteen wheeler ran over him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was not a pleasant experience. His bones were crushed, his organs burst and spilled out, the wheels unrelenting on his soft body. The darkness was a welcome friend. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But it didn’t stay. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Flashes, of images and sounds. Uprooted trees, overturned tarmac, bent steel, boulders ripped out, and the sound, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>sound</span>
  </em>
  <span>, of ripping, of tearing, of destruction, and cutting through it, yips. Sweet little yips. The contrast increased, and then there was something small and furry pressed to his chest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yuuri came to in a ditch, to Vicchan’s worried licks. ‘Wha..” He trailed off, thoughtlessly petting the dog. Vicchan was squirming in his grasp, so Yuuri let him go. He attacked his face full on, licking and nipping, and Yuuri gently pushed him off moments later. His eyes were slowly adjusting, and he stood up, his poodle tucked under his arm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The ditch was barren, with massive rocks, and debris he could see just the outline of, enough to dodge, but not to describe. “It’s okay, it’s okay, boy,” Yuuri said, softly comforting Vicchan. How had he ended up here? There had been a truck, he very clearly remembered there had been a truck, but that implied injuries or at least a road and here were </span>
  <em>
    <span>neither.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He walked to the edge and understood why. It wasn’t a ditch. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a crater. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A crater where the peak of the mountain once was. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Morning tinged the sky purple by the time he made it home. Teary arms enveloped him, his mother muttered frantic words in Japanese, his father looked worried by her side, even Mari wore a frown. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Earthquake. Missing. No deaths, thank god. The mountain caved in. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yuuri locked himself in his room and obsessively read reports on </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Freak Hasetsu Quake</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and told himself that he was quirkless. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Yuuri,’ Mari asked, once he finally made an appearance. Her tone made him hide inside his shoulders like a turtle, ‘Where were you the night of the earthquake? Why didn’t you come home?’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘I-I’ve told you, niisan. The roads were blocked.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Right,’ She said, ‘You usually walk Vicchan by the mountain, don’t you?’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Mari, let him be,’ Inko said. She made katsudon. He finally turned to his sister. Scepticism contorted her face but she didn’t  ask any more questions.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His sister followed him, after dinner. Yuuri heard her footsteps, but didn’t turn, “‘I know you’re hiding so—’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Mari!’ Yuuri startled, turning away from his bedroom door. Did she know? Did she see something? He was being ridiculous, why would his sister have followed him? His behaviour had been suspicious, he knew, but the last few days had been a whirlwind of stress and guilt and just having a simple meal with his family had been as exhausting as a three hour hike. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘You can tell me things that you can’t tell mummy,’ She said, ‘You know I won’t. React like she does.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘I know.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Do you?’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘I,’ Yuuri knew she was wrong. She wouldn’t react well. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I got crushed by a truck and destroyed a mountain.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Perfectly normal, ‘I need to figure this out on my own.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘You don’t, Yuuchan,’ she said, ‘You really don’t, and I hope you realise that soon.’ </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Over the next few months, Yuuri missed the junior GPF by two point three points and had Vicchan registered as an emotional support animal. He’d taken to entering a room and immediately listing out all the ways he could die, and how many people he would take out with him, if he weren’t stopped. Vicchan needed to be by his side, at all times. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>College was a whirlwind, and Detroit a far cry from sleepy Hasetsu, and Cialdini a far cry from Minako, and Phichit a far cry from being the awkward third wheel to Yuuko and Takeshi. In between two am essays, six hour practice sessions, and occasional pole dancing classes, he almost stopped imagining how he could slip down a flight of stairs and rip apart the entire new academic block. It was easier, when he didn’t have to walk past the scooped out hill every other day. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Phichit helped, too. Yuuri hadn’t realised just how much he had craved a friend who </span>
  <em>
    <span>understood</span>
  </em>
  <span> exactly why staying up till three am over two degrees of rotation was perfectly reasonable, and who did not scoff at his hang ups about blade maintenance. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But then, Vicchan died. An undiagnosed heart defect. And Yuuri cracked, darkness roiling underneath his skin, threatening to push past his lips, the seams between his fingers and nails. He held it back, just barely, but crumbled on the ice, missed every jump, shattered all his hopes and dreams, and sobbed on the toilet until the door was rudely kicked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Six months of turbulence, just before bliss. Victor. Vitya. Vitushka. Binktop, when he wanted to tease. Victor Nikiforov, kinder than his pre-teen fantasies, goofier than he could’ve expected, whose real smile didn’t dazzle with was toothless and heart shaped, with a quirk as unexpected as it made sense: Victor Nikiforov could tell what you wanted. At any time. A glass of water. A kiss. A friend. A fried ice cream sandwich dipped in chocolate. Another quad, from him. More complex choreography. Higher jumps. Sadness! No, Euphoria! Longing! Something new! Something New! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Something new.  </span>
  </em>
  <span>It humiliated him to no end when he found out, because it meant Victor knew from the beginning that he wanted him. Victor had blinked, at that, and quietly said that that was drew him to Yuuri first place. Yuuri had wanted him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Only</span>
  </em>
  <span> him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hadn’t known what to say to that, so he’d leaned forward and kissed him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They married in June. It was a beautiful ceremony, Phichit had cried the loudest. Victor’s mysterious family had shown up: tall, elegant creatures that lurked in corners and sipped champagne and made you check your shirt for spills with a single look. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am Vanya,” a woman had thrust her hand to him, a woman with the most startling golden eyes, “Victor’s sister.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Y-Yuuri, hello.” He shook her hand. It was firm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know,” she said, “Congratulations. Keep him happy, eh?” The rest of clan Nikiforov was staring at him from a few feet away, their identical golden gazes unblinking. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I-I will. I love him.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but Yuuri thought her eyes glowed. Then, for the first time, Vanya’s face split into what he supposed was a grin. Yuuri startled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are not lying!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Six days into their honeymoon, in between rounds of sex and food and naps, he finally recalled that single odd interaction. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Vitushka..”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s up with your family?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His back tensed, for a single second, and then relaxed. “They’re seers.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I would say I’m the black sheep, but… honestly, they love me. I’m just too normal to get along with them.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yuuri sensed he’d touched something tender, so he swallowed him deep into his throat and sucked until he writhed, as apology. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They haven’t talked explicitly said it yet, but they both know this is Yuuri’s retiring after this Worlds. Four years of marriage, one Olympic gold, and about two months of looking into adoptions laws and procedures later later, Yuuri’s bones have had enough. It’s his final season. The final competition. World Figure Skating Championship 20—, Musutafu. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It goes wrong.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yurio gets a stunning 160.25, missing Yuuri’s world record by 1.25 points. The boy dashes off the ice in a huff, eyes glaring into the couple. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re proud of you!” They both shout in unison. No doubt the moment will be endlessly giffed. Yuuri’s next to next, and Victor’s hyping him up, rubbing his muscles. His long program’s called </span>
  <em>
    <span>Bansho</span>
  </em>
  <span>, or the setting sun. More artistic than technical, with only three quads. And not the quad axel. He hasn’t performed it since the Olympics and he’s not going to. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It goes wrong. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Vitya?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s looking off into the audience, lips pursed, eyes a thousand miles away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Victor.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just,” He stands up, gives him an uncertain glance, and then turns bacl. Yuuri traces his eyes to three men standing at the entrance, “I need to speak at the organisers. Wait here, okay?” He smiles at him. It’s a dazzling camera smile. Victor finds the nearest official and starts talking in hushed tones, Yuuri completely ignores the skater on the ice, and eventually just ends up following him. Sees the official dismiss him. Sees his expression morph in annoyance. Sees the scurrying across the stadium, and sprints after him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Victor, no—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That’s all he manages to say, before a shot rings out, and the crowd erupts into screams. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before he shoves Victor into the sheets and takes a bullet to the heart and bleeds to death in his husband’s arms, he begs him, bloodied fingers clutching his shirt desperately, to<em> please, please, </em></span>
  <em>
    <span>get away. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>—</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can help him, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please,</span>
  </em>
  <span> don’t!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sir, you can’t—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s my </span>
  <em>
    <span>husband</span>
  </em>
  <span>—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sir!” The hero shouts, shakes him. Victor looks at his face, it’s just a blur of tanned skin and green hair and soot, his eyes are blurry with tears, and it drifts into his head, </span>
  <em>
    <span>save people, save people, save people. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sir, he’s not your husband anymore.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Victor punches him and slips out of his grasp while he’s startled, shouting a </span>
  <em>
    <span>sorry!</span>
  </em>
  <span> over his shoulder as he runs through the hallway into the main entrance and—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The roof of the stadium is blown wide open, and the sky is a swirl of blood red and orange, and all around him are heroes, buzzing, shouting, shooting ice and shadows and explosions and trying desperately to rein in—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yuuri! Oh my god, Yuuri!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He floats in the air, arms raised, dark tendrils emanating from every limb. When Victor shouts, Yuuri’s head turns three sixty degrees and his eyes, which are just glowing circles, widen for a moment in surprise and that’s all the opportunity the shadow bird needs to whip around his neck. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Victor’s knees tremble. His heart’s a humming bird, ready to fail.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Someone get the civilian out of here!” A brash blond shouts. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m his husband!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah?” He says, casually blowing up a piece of debris that was about to crush Victor that he hadn’t noticed. Cement rains on him, “you two have a tiff or something?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ground Zero, he’s a traumatised victim.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t look traumatised to me, Entropy, he managed to beat Deku.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He took me by surprise, Kacchan!” Comes a voice from the hallway. Victor winces. That’s when Yuuri flexes his fingers and sends a shockwave that sends everyone, a dozen heroes and one skater, flying through the air. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then he’s gone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why is </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> still with us?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He refused to move from in front of the truck until we let him join, and he's got diplomatic immunity so he can't be arrested," Entropy says, cheek resting on his knuckles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Ugh."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t mind him, Mr. Nikiforov," Deku smiles, "I’m happy you’re here. I'm sure you'll be helpful." </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“..I’m sorry I hit you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s fine,” Deku waves him off, “I understand.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sure you do</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Entropy mutters beside him. They’re in a truck, heading for the district where Yuuri’s been sighted. It’s been six hours since the wreck of the World’s, and they expected Yuuri—codenamed Target—to be tearing apart buildings. But he’s hiding underground. They’ve vacated everyone in a three block radius. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can tell what people want,” Victor says. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Cold soba.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He turns and narrows his eyes at Entropy. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Really?</span>
  </em>
  <span> “And Yuuri’s thought process is very scrambled right now, but from what I can tell, he’s looking for safety. I really think if we just let him calm down he will go back to normal.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Katsuki scoffs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, no, he has a point,” Deku says, “It’s a defense mechanism, a-a stress reaction to intense trauma. Did you know about this?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><em>To death.</em> Victor shudders. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” He says, “He told me he was Quirkless.” Deku smiles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We do get in trouble a lot,” he says, “so you had no idea about this? Perhaps he didn’t either, the trigger for his quirk isn’t exactly—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, but,” Victor pauses. “As he was… bleeding, he told me to get away,” He says, “I think he knew this was going to happen. I think this has happened before.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a thoughtful pause. The truck drives on. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aha!” Deku finally says, looking up from his phone, “ ‘The Freak Hasetsu Quake. Around ten pm of July 7th, Hasetsu was rocked by an extremely localised Earthquake—” Entropy plucks the phone from his hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yup. This is it,” He turns the screen towards everyone else. It’s an old article, but the feature picture is one he knows intimately: the mountain crater which Yuuri avoids on their morning jogs, “We’ve found our previous incident.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He would’ve been sixteen…” Victor murmurs. A child. He would’ve died, as a child. The edges of his eyes smart, and he rubs at them with his sleeve. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ground Zero whistles, “He definitely went easy on us back then.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a hand on his knee. “Mr. Nikiforov,” Deku says, “No one was hurt that day. And no one was hurt today. We will get your husband back to you, I don't think he's too far gone.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They toss around ideas about how exactly to make Yuuri feel ‘safe’, after the ‘let’s just leave him alone’ is shot down thoroughly. Finally, Victor snaps, “I startled him! My voice startled him. He still recognises me. Just let me go down there, alone, and I’ll calm him down. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>how to calm him down. That’s basically my actual job.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Protests. </span>
  <em>
    <span>We’re not risking a civilian, he’s too dangerous, it’s gonna be our head, blondie. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think we should let him go.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shouto!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He can clearly wipe the floor with us, and if he goes beserk we’re all as good as dead,” He says calmly, “So I say we let him go.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“..You’ve got a point.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Kacchan.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“All I’m saying is,” Entropy says, “If it were me, and if I were in a panicked state and destroying everything and scaring myself, the only person I’d want around me was,” he looks at Deku, “You.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Deku stutters and flushes uselessly. Katsuki groans, “We’re never gonna get approval.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who says we need it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Oh, no,” Shouto says into the intercom, “the target took Victor Nikiforov hostage and Deku just went in to save him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Damn it, Entropy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sewer stinks. Victor sidesteps a suspicious pool of liquid and leads Deku, whose eyes dart around lightning quick and who prowls behind him like a tiger. Victor follows the distorted trail of desire. It’s very powerful, but barely discernible. </span>
  <em>
    <span>S A F E T Y S A F E T Y V I C </span>
  </em>
  <span>and then static again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They know they’re close when the walls start to twist, dark tendrils creeping up the brick and floor. Deku pulls closer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t,” He says. Victor stops midway, about to touch one of the writhing shadows. He hadn’t realised he was reaching out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The find him a few hallways down, cowering in the corner. With each step, their bodies grow heavier, and Deku collapses as they’re close. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Keep.. going..” he pants, kneeling, trying to get up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yuuri?” Victor’s knees buckle, “Yuuri, it’s me.” His shoulders tighten. “Baby, it’s me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nothing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yuuri! Axel!” Yuuri flinches and turns and suddenly, they can breathe again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>I ASKED YOU TO GET AWAY.</b>
  <span> His eyes are huge orbs of sickly green light, and a dark, red liquid flows down his cheeks. Yuuri’s skin is a blanched white with black cracks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I’m very stubborn!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>LEAVE</b>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Never. You’re stuck with me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>I SAID LEAVE! </b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They go flying back. Yuuri whimpers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Victor steadies himself and walks, gently. “I’m going to touch you, okay?” Another whimper, “I’m going to wrap my arms around you. It’ll be okay,” A few more steps. He stands over the mass of dark, faintly crying energy. And hugs him. “Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay,” it’s like holding a ball of electricity. His skin buzzes, “It’s okay. I love you. I love you so much. You’re safe now,” Victor nuzzles into his neck, “safe with me. I’ll protect you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They climb out, Victor supporting Yuuri’s weight, into an onslaught of camera flashes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s alright!” Deku shouts, “The Target held both Mr. Katsuki and Mr. Nikiforov captive! The situation’s all clear!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Victor mouths </span>
  <em>
    <span>thank you.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>punched Deku in the face</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Once</span>
  </em>
  <span>! It was</span>
  <em>
    <span> once</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh god,” He presses his face into his thighs, “That’s it. I’m leaving this country. I can never show my face again.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not even the one who did it </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh my god.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yuuri’s fine, physically. But he startles easily and has a hard time sleeping. So Victor feeds him soups and katsudons and give him back rubs and massages and, when he’s up for it a few weeks later, blowjobs. He doesn’t bring up the questions he has about the villains, the first ones, who are getting blamed for the destruction. As far as he knows they haven’t found them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As far as he knows, he saw Yuuri levitating them as they helplessly flailed before losing consciousness. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But only as far as he knows.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The bell rings. “I’ll get it!” Victor says, as Makkachin sprints off to see. It’s Deku. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“O-Oh my god,” Yuuri says, and then fires off something sounding like an apology in Japanese, too quick for him, and bows. Deku nervously laughs and says it’s fine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I, uh, brought something for you,” he says, reaching in the recesses of his coat, “My husband, um, procured it for me. It’s quite old, almost twenty years now, I think. And doesn’t exist. Officially.” It’s a slim black box. Yuuri takes it and flips it open. It’s lined with velvet and nestled inside are two needle-tipped capsules, filled with something blood red. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is it?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s a very illegal drug” Deku says, “that takes away your quirk. Permanently.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yuuri nearly drops it in his hurry to surge across the table and hug Deku, sobbing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For many years, Yuuri Katsuki wished he was quirkless. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And for the rest, he peacefully was. </span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
 </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>okay listen!!! i started writing this before the umbrella academy came out, and then it just languished in my google docs. this is in no way inspired from it. </p>
<p>also! if the bullet HAD hit victor, yuuri would've gone full eldritch horror and wrecked the whole of east asia before dying of exhaustion.</p>
<p>i'm <a href="https://bauliya.tumblr.com"> bauliya </a> on tumblr! come say hi. comments are love.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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